Dragonlance Secrets
by blackmagelikesevilpie
Summary: DISCLAIMER: The probability of my updating this story is very slim for a while, unfortunately for all the readers and myself, I kinda lost intrest in this, so I'll post another disclaimer thingy next time I get insperation, or you can just check once an a
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonlance, I do not own anything Dragonlance, except some of the books. **

**Disclaimer 2: I realize this story bears resemblance to another story here, The Redeeming of Raistlin, but I assure you that I came up with this idea long before I even knew this web site existed. **

Notice: Break lines mean a scene change

Italics are thoughts, what's going on in the character's head. (I throw these in once and a while)

**Dragonlance Secrets**

**Chapter 1**

Walking into a closed mage ware shop (no door should ever be locked!), Tasslehoff Burrfoot stumbled upon many a magical item. He had sworn off magical jewelry and artifacts. They got him into too much trouble so he didn't bother to touch anything, butpotions, potions weren't on his 'don't touch' list, so when he found a wall completely full of potions, he was very excited. He almost yelled out, but then he remembered that there was probably someone outside, and for some reason people didn't like it when you went into places where doors were locks. Looking at all the labels and trying to read what they did, he found a night blue potion in the back of a shelf, hidden it seemed from someone who wasn't really interested.

Picking it up, he found it had no label, not that he could read, but it was rude not to put a label on things. He'd just take it for safe keeping until he found someone who could tell him what it did.

Pleased he had solved a problem, he walked out of the mage ware shop, making sure to close the door, and continued down the streets of Panathalas.

He was walking by a group of people when a guard grabbed his arm, "What exactly are you doing with that purse my good sir?"

"Purse?" Tasslehoff replied, then looking at the bag he had in his hand, "Oh that purse, it's a good thing I found it, someone must have lost it. Here," he said handing the purse to the guard, "I'm sure you can get it to it's owner." He turned to leave, and tried to take the guards hand off his arm, but he wouldn't let go.

"I think you need to come with me for a while," the guard said, guiding him towards the jail.

* * *

After Tasslehoff had gotten out of the jail the next day, he decided he'd go back to Solace. "Caramon will be so excited to see me!" He said to a drunk bum next to one of the taverns. Not waiting for his reply, Tas skipped towards the front gate, where the guards were only too happy to see him leave.

While he was walking, one of his pouches jabbed him painfully. He reached in to see what was poking him and pulled out the potion, "What are you doing poking me?" Tasslehoff asked the phial, not expecting an answer. He was just about to put it back into his pouch, when the curse of curiosity took hold of him. "I'm sure it couldn't be that bad, its just a blue potion." Popping the cork off, he took a whiff, and sneezed violently for a few seconds. After he had finished sneezing he said "Wow! That's really strong. It's almost as bad as Caramon's armpits. I wonder if it tastes as bad as it smells?" Putting the phial to his lips, he drank a mouthful, and when he didn't start sneezing, he drank the rest.

Looking himself over, he was quite disappointed. _The potion didn't do anything to me, I don't feel different, don't look different. Maybe it's a dud, _he thought to himself. _Raistlin would have known what it did._

Thinking of his black robed friend, the kender thought back to the last time he had seen him. Suddenly, he got very dizzy, and a wave of nausea hit him. "I don't feel so good," Tas said to no one around. Falling off the road and into the woods beside, he passed out.

Tasslehoff was having terrible nightmares, and the worst part was that he knew he was having them, but couldn't wake from them. The first few were when Raistlin killed Gnimsh, and each time he saw it again, the deaths became more terrible. The next were of when he and Caramon had traveled into the future and seen what would happen if Raistlin had become a god. Finally, he watched the Dark Queen kill Raistlin and bring him back to life hundreds of times over. When he woke, he was covered in a cold sweat, and shaking uncontrollably.

* * *

Dalamar the dark sat in the Tower of High Sorcery at Panathalas reading his spell books, and sipping blood red wine. His concentration was broken however, when he sensed another's presence in the tower. Standing abruptly and speaking arcane words, he disappeared, reappearing where he sensed the intruder. He appeared at the entrance of the tower, and found that all the guardians were gathered here as well.

"What are you doing here?" he asked them.

One of them turned towards him, "The master of the Tower has returned." Then it turned back to the figure on the floor.

"The what? Move now," several moved out of his way, and he saw a black robed body lying on the floor. He knelt down beside the body, and gently nudged it. A gasp emanated from underneath the hood, and a gold colored hand snapped out and grabbed his arm.

A ragged cough came from the body, and then it spoke, "Dalamar! Are you also in the Abyss?"

"_Shalifi_!" Dalamar whispered. "How did you escape the Abyss?"

"I escaped? How is that possible?" Raistlin raised his head and looked Dalamar in the eyes, "You're real!" he exclaimed, then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lay back on the floor.

* * *

Justarius, head of the Red Robes and master of the Tower of High Sorcery at Wayreth sat hunched over his spell books, when suddenly his head snapped up in attention. Dalamar the Dark was pacing back and forth in his chamber! Without any warning of his coming, "What are you doing here Dalamar?" he asked coldly, closing his spell books.

"I request an audience before the conclave tonight." Dalamar said irritably, still pacing.

"You don't have to ask me! You're the head of the black robes, you can speak when ever you please."

"I need to be a main figure in tonight's meeting. I have a most distressing item of business to bring before the council. And no, I will not discuss here." He said, answering Justarius' unasked question.

"Well if you won't tell me what is going on, why did you come here in the first place?" Justarius asked.

A casual observer would have assumed that the two wizards were having a polite chat, the way their faces were set, but one who knew either would have realized the tension between the two. Had they met elsewhere, and the rules of the tower not been upon them, this meeting may have ended, with a bang.

"I dare not speak any more," Dalamar continued, "I have been away from the Tower for too long." Speaking words of magic, he disappeared.

_Been away from the tower?_ Justarius thought, _Why didn't he say 'my' tower? _

**Thank you for reading my story. I ask that if you do write reviews that you only write POSITIVE reviews, and any plot ideas would be appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

Disclamer: I don't own the rights toDragonlance, just in case you were wondering.

**Chapter 2**

Previously, on Dragonlance Secrets (cheesy I know)

"I dare not speak any more," Dalamar continued, "I have been away from the Tower for too long." Speaking words of magic, he disappeared.

_Been away from the tower?_ Justarius thought, _Why didn't he say 'my' tower?_

* * *

Tasslehoff Burrfoot woke up to something poking him in the side. Grumbling about something or other, he rolled onto his side, only to have the poking continue.

"Stupid kender, rolled on my hat," a voice muttered. "Well, get off it!" The poking continued.

Tasslehoff finally rolled over to see who was being such a nuisance, which was ironic when he thought about it, to see an old man in mouse colored robes poking him with a wooden staff, "Fizban!" Tas cried aloud. "Where have you been?" He asked excitedly, jumping off the ground and embracing the now blushing mage.

"Get off me, blasted kender never knew when to lay off," he said, but returned the hug, for a few seconds. Then pushing Tas off, he held him at arms length, "Now, about my hat?"

Tas quickly retrieved Fizban's hat and handed it to him, "Oh Fizban, I am so glad to see you! I have more stories about my adventures, did I ever tell you about the time, oh wait, you were with me when that happened," he paused to see if Fizban was listening, or looking for his hat.

Fizban was paying attention, he had a very serious look about him too, "Tasslehoff Burrfoot," he said in a no nonsense voice, "shut up."

Tas immediately stuck his hands over his mouth, which was one of the only ways to keep him from talking, and was 'all ears' for the god.

"You are on your way to Palanthas, am I correct?" He asked Tas.

"Why no Fizban, I'm going to Solace to see Caramon! And he'll be so excited to see me. I just came from Palanthas, and I found this potion, and let me tell you, this potion was so weird, it was night blue and didn't have any label on it so I grabbed it to see if I could find someone who knew what it did but then it poked me and," he paused for another intake of breath, when the mage put his hand on Tas' mouth, muffling anything he was going to say.

"It doesn't matter now, you're going to Palanthas," and he hit Tas on the head with his staff.

Tasslehoff's eyes glazed over for a moment, then going back to normal, he looked around him, "Hullo Fizban! What are you doing here?"

"Oh nothing," he said casually, "Now tell me more about this potion of yours." Fizban began walking around the glade Tasslehoff and himself were in, poking around at the trees, muttering about his hat being missing.

"Potion," Tas asked quizzically, "I never said anything about a potion, by the way, your hat is on your head." Fizban felt his head, and the hat on it, "But I'm on my way to Palanthas. Would you like to come? I'm sure Lady Crysania would be very glad to see you."

"Yes I'm sure she would," he said quietly to himself. "But I can't, important business upstairs and all, don't want to miss it!" With that, he vanished.

Tasslehoff put a sad look on his face, seeing the old mage go, then thinking about Palanthas, his sad face was replaced by his travel face, (both of which he was very proud of). He was only a short walk outside of Palanthas, so getting there wasn't much of a problem.

Once inside, was quickly apprehended by a guard, and an old man that claimed that he, Tasslehoff Burrfoot, had stolen his hammer, looking in his pouches, Tas found the hammer in question, and gave it back to the old man, "You must have dropped it," he said happily, "your very lucky I found it, someone might have stolen it." He was turning around, when the guard told him he needed to come with him, and for the second time in two days, which is no where near the record held by Tas' Uncle Trapspringer, Tasslehoff Burrfoot entered the Palanthas jail.

* * *

Returning from his visit to the High Tower of Sorcery at Wayreth, Dalamar found the guardians where he left them, circled about Raistlin Majere, master of the past and present, and the most powerful mage to walk Krynn.

Raistlin, who hadn't moved from where he had passed out, finally stirred. Dalamar ordered several of the guardians out of his way, and he knelt down beside the archmage, "_Shalifi_? Are you awake?" He asked, shaking his robed shoulder gently.

"Dalamar, have you any idea how I have escaped the Abyss, and our Queen's wrath?" Raistlin rolled over, and pushed himself up on his shoulder, looking around the entrance to his tower. "It's been so long," Raistlin whispered quietly to himself, and his hand went absentmindedly to where he would have laid the Staff of Magius, had he not given it to Palin, then, realizing it wasn't there, he snatched his hand back. "I suppose you've been to Justarius?" His hourglass eyes turned on Dalamar, and the elf was forced to look away.

"What did you think I'd do? Welcome you with open arms? Of course I informed him, and if you are capable, then I suggest you accompany me to the conclave tonight," he said coldly turning around and walking towards the stair case.

"Yes, I suppose I should go with you," Raistlin said in a tired voice, at which Dalamar stared in surprise, never having seen his _shalifi_ show any weakness. Raistlin stood up, grasping the wall for support, and waving his hand, sent the guardians away.

Dalamar held out his arm to the archmage, Raistlin took it, and speaking the spidery words of magic, they disappeared from the entrance of the tower, reappearing in Dalamar's office. "I hope you don't mind," Dalamar gestured at the room, "I sealed your laboratory, and only you can release the guardian from its post."

"That's fine with me, I have no intension of entering my laboratory for some time anyway." Raistlin replied, and gesturing towards the window, a stick flew in and into his hand. It quickly conformed into a suitable walking staff for the archmage, and content for the moment, he simply looked about the room.

Suddenly, the archmage turned and grabbed Dalamar's arm as the elf was about to sit down, his hourglass eyes wide, "Where are my nephews?"

* * *

Tanin, Sturm, and Palin Majere were riding near the back of a small group of Knights of Solamnia. Being knights themselves, Tanin and Sturm could have been riding near the front, but they chose to ride next to their magi brother. All three were sweating profusely, Tanin especially, his robes making the extreme heat of the day seem twice as bad as his brothers felt.

"Don't you know any spells that will make it cooler?" Sturm asked Palin, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"I can't do anything about this weather and you know it!" Palin shot back, also wiping his forehead.

Tanin, who was riding slightly in front of his brothers turned in his saddle, "Stop bickering, Sturm, you know Tanin can't change the weather anymore than you can sew. Palin, you know very well that Sturm is just trying to be annoying."

The two brothers looked down at their hands, Palin ashamed for yelling at his brother, and Sturm for starting it.

Sir Llewelyn ap Ellsar, Knight of the Rose and commanding officer of the knights was riding at the head of the column when a pageboy suddenly galloped beside him, "Sir Llewelyn! I just saw a ship coming towards the beach up ahead."

"A ship?" the knight stroked his moustache, "Do you know what ship it is?" The pageboy shook his head, too tired to speak, "Well then, shall we investigate?" Sir Llewelyn turned to his assistant, "Inform Sir Horan that we will investigate this ship sighting at once." Waiting for a few moments, he then turned his horse towards the beach ahead, the rest of the column following suit.

Arriving at the area the pageboy had sighted the ship at, Sir Llewelyn waited for Sir Horan to catch up with him. "Where is the ship young man?" He asked the pageboy.

Pointing off into the sea, "Right there my lord, it's a bit hard to see now, but it sticks out pretty good every so often." The ship in question, which was only a small prick on the horizon became visible, "Wait a tick," the squire said, "there's three now!"

"Three!" Sir Llewelyn spun back around in his saddle, looking where the page was looking, but he did not see three, he saw five, and the first ship was quite visible to him, a black dragon ship, followed by, he assumed the other four, were headed towards the beach. "Get Sir Percival," he told the pageboy.

"No need Sir Llewelyn, I'm here," Sir Percival said, coming even with Sir Llewelyn. He was accompanied by Sir Horan, "What seems to be the problem?"

Pointing towards the ships, Sir Llewelyn gestured for the knights to come closer, "Do you recon there are more?" He asked quietly.

Looking towards the five ships, Sir Percival said, "Those ships probably have, fifty men each, judging by their size, at least a quarter will be slaves or paid servants, we have 200 well trained knights, sixty pages, and Paladine, we won't loose. Superior numbers and training have never let anyone down."

"Should we send a few knights to warn the surrounding area?" Sir Horan asked.

"Nonsense, we will squash these upstart, 'Dark Knights', evil turns on itself Sir Horan, we will never loose as long as that remains true." Sir Percival boasted.

The knights lined up on the beach, ready for the battle, watching as the five dragon ships drew nearer. At the back of the lines, as he was waiting, Palin felt the Staff of Magius grow very warm, he turned to look at it, and saw a black robed mage standing next to him. Calling to mind a defensive spell, he held the staff up pointed towards the mage. "Who are you?" he asked loudly, the heads of his brothers turned at his voice.

"Put down the staff Palin, I mean you no harm." The mage said quietly.

"What are you doing Palin?" Tanin hissed between clenched teeth.

"What do you mean? I'm talking to this black robe." Palin replied, not taking his eyes off the mage, and surprised that Tanin hadn't noticed him.

"What mage?" Tanin asked. Looking to where Palin was pointing with his staff. He turned from the boats coming ever closer, and walked towards his brother, "There is no one else here."

"No one else here? Can't you see, there's a black robed mage standing right beside you!" Palin practically yelled.

"He can't see me nephew," the mage said quietly. "Only you can, unless I choose otherwise." The mage moved closer to Palin, and he could feel the heat radiating from the robes.

_Nephew! He called me nephew! _Palin thought to himself. Seeing Tanin looking at him strangely, he put the staff down, "I'm sorry Tanin, the head it making me see things."

Giving his brother another worried look, Tanin turned around and got back into line with the other knights, and stared at what all the others where staring at. Hundreds of ships now replaced the five. All of them swarming with knights, and blue painted giants. He nearly lost his nerve and ran, only the thought of the shame he would bring kept him standing still. "Palin, you need to leave." He said dully.

"What are you talking about, I'm not leaving Tanin I'm-" he turned and saw the ships, and all thoughts of the mysterious mage left him, the mage beside him turned as well, staring at the ships in seeming indifference.

Sir Llewelyn ap Ellsar, knight of the Rose, stared at the force of ships, seeing his death drawing nearer with each pull of the oar on the ships. Getting a hold on himself, he turned and faced the knights lined up on the beach, "Knights! We cannot win this fight, we shall not flee either. We will die gloriously in battle, and go to Paladine, to our final resting place. I ask only that you die with your wounds on your fronts." He bowed his head for a moment, a tear fell down his cheek and fell off his chin. _So many young knights,_ he thought to himself, _some on their first outing. And now they are to die because some cannot help but conquer. _He straitened, his tear shed, "_Est Sularus oth Mithas!_" He yelled, drawing his sword, turning to face his death.

"_Est Sularus oth Mithas!_" The knights yelled together, drawing their swords as well.

Tanin and Sturm broke formation and turned towards Palin, "You need to leave!" Tanin said, grabbing Palin's shoulders, "We are going to die here, you need to run, go with those who will warn the area."

Palin pushed Tanin's hands off his shoulders, "I'm not leaving!" He yelled back, seeing Tanin about to protest he continued, "You and Sturm may have sworn oaths, but I did too! I made oaths when I took the Test! And I can't go back, not knowing what happened to you, I can't go back to Solace, look Mother in the eye, and live with myself!"

"Palin, this isn't a game!" Sturm said, standing next to Tanin, "We are all going to die."

"If you were in my place, would you leave?" Palin asked his brothers, firm resolve on his face. He answered his own question, "No, you wouldn't, why? Because we are brothers, because none of us could go home, no knowing what happened to the others. I'm not leaving, and nothing you can do will change that." 

End Chapter

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please review, but try to keep it positive. Thanks to all those who have already put in reviews, and there will be another chapter soon.


	3. Chapter 3

I am SOOOOOOOOOOOO very sorry for not updating for so bloody long, but unfortunately for us all, my mind decided that I forget this whole thing. Fortunately for us all, I ran into the disk (literally) I am writing it on, and continued.

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* * *

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**Chapter 3**

The Conclave had gathered, and was nearly overfull with members, who had heard rumors of an important announcement to be made tonight, and none were willing wait and be told of what had happened.

The chamber was circular in design, with four sections, three large sections for each of the orders, and a smaller, fourth section for visitors, all were brimming with mages, and the visitors section was full as well. White, Red, and Black robes sat in their sections, the visitors severely intimidated by the concentration of magic users in their midst. Sir Thomas, current leader of the Knights of Solamnia sat next to Lady Crysania, Revered Daughter of Paladine, behind them sat several knights and clerics, a representative of the Qualinesti elves was also in attendance, along with her honor guard. The representatives of the mountain and hill dwarves were here, even a kender was in attendance, though he was given a wide space to sit in. The Silvanesti elves had refused to respond to the invitation, content to wait until their mages returned with the news.

Justarius, head of the Red Robes and Master of the Tower at Wayreth, stood to address those in attendance. The chamber fell into silence, "Greetings to all, and especially to our honored guests," he gestured towards the visitor's section, and bowed his head to them. "I call to order the present Wizards Conclave. We will hear first from Dalamar Nightson, head of the Black Robes." He turned towards the dark elf, and then sat down.

"Thank you," Dalamar said, nodding his head towards Justarius. "Members of the Conclave, honored guests, Revered Daughter," he shifted his gaze to Lady Crysania, "I bring with me most distressing news, news of which I saw fit to summon those who have never had the pleasure of attending this council." Many members of the Conclave were getting agitated, the guests becoming uneasy, both realizing that Dalamar was stalling, making sure they were on the edge of their seats, and it was working.

"As I said," he continued, his face letting no emotions through, "I bare most distressing news."

"Well get on with it!" A white robe called from the back of his section.

"Very well," he paused for dramatic effect, "Raistlin Majere has escaped the Abyss!"

The chamber erupted in shouts, gasps, and yelling, each mage or guest trying to make his voice heard, while Dalamar stood in silence, waiting for order to return, and enjoying himself tremendously.

Eventually, order was restored and Justarius again stood, "Dalamar, why do you bring these lies to the Conclave? Raistlin Majere is dead! The Revered Daughter herself has told us of her god's vision to Caramon Majere."

A voice emanated from the darkness beside Dalamar who very nearly jumped at having something appear beside him, a voice that made the blood of those in the room run cold, "Perhaps her god was lying to her." The blackness stood, and now, those in the chamber could see it was another mage. He was frail, judging by the way his robes fell about him, but the focus of attention wasn't on his frailness, but on the gold tinged skin of his hands. Those hands, which made Dalamar shudder in spite of himself, his right hand rising to his chest. The figure rose up, and removed the hood covering his face, the face of Raistlin Majere.

Complete silence filled the hall, none dared to breath. The silence was broken only when Raistlin doubled over in a coughing fit. Several of each order disappeared, to bring the news to those waiting for it, certain that this was the most important occurrence that would be happening this night. Several of the guests fainted, and those who didn't, certainly looked as though they would have liked to.

Justarius gathered his wits and spoke, "Raistlin Majere? If you are truly him, how did you escape your Queen?" All those that were conscious had the same question on their lips. How had he escaped?

"That question, I'm afraid, will have to be left unanswered," Raistlin replied calmly. Justarius frowned, displeased at not receiving an answer. Raistlin continued, "For I do not know, I was in a deep sleep, one which I have been in most of my time in the Abyss, contrary to popular belief that I was being tortured by the Dark Queen daily." He smirked at those in attendance. "When suddenly I felt a tug on my mind, which soon became an unbearable pull that dragged me forcefully, from my prison. I woke, finding myself in the Tower of High Sorcery at Palanthas, surrounded by the guardians, and found Dalamar kneeling next to me. I asked him if he was also in the Abyss, he asked me how I had escaped, then I passed out again. I had hoped it wasn't a dream, but I have dreamed many times of escaping the Abyss, so I didn't hope, finding myself to be still in the tower when I woke the second time, I knew it was no dream. So, with Dalamar's prompting, I appear before you now, very much alive."

Lady Crysania stood, "Raistlin Majere, you have come back into our realm, what do you intend on doing now?" She asked calmly. Her hands however, were digging into the back of the chair in front of her.

"Revered Daughter, I understand that those in attendance know well of my previous intentions to challenge Takhisis and become a god. Even less of you know that had I not stayed in the Abyss, I would have won!" Raistlin's cough returned and he was forced to wait until he regained control to continue. "But, seeing the inevitable outcome, and from the actions of my twin, I chose to stay, and sacrifice myself for the, greater good." His tone betrayed his feelings, those in the chamber knew he wasn't sincere.

"You still haven't answered my question Raistlin." Crysania pressed.

"Of course, my Lady," he gave her a mock bow, "I intend to travel to Solace, and visit my brother and nephews. I have been away for too long, and I need to make amends. But before, I will have to make a slight detour, I am needed immediately. " The last sentence he spoke so softly, only Dalamar heard him. "So, if there aren't any objections, I shall leave."

Not waiting for any answers, he spoke words of magic, and disappeared from the chamber.

* * *

Tasslehoff was busy exchanging items from his pouches with other kender, when the jailer brought a very pretty woman into the 'kender jail'. Just as excited as the rest, he pushed his way to the front of the circle formed around the girl, and was quickly pointing and jabbering with the rest of the kender. 

Suddenly realizing what it must be like for this young girl to wake up surrounded by kender, (which wasn't a bad thing, it's just that people didn't like it to happen) Tas started shoving the others back from her, making sure she had some space to breathe.

Tas continued to push the inquisitive kender back for quite a while, unfortunately, one of the group decided it would be fun to make a game of it all, and Tas' efforts had to be tripled in order to combat the prodding fingers. Finally, one of the kender managed to get close enough to 'acquire' an object from the girl's fingers. The unfortunate kender was launched backwards with a flash of blue light, slamming into the cell wall, and did not get up. Therest kender seemed to realize that play time was over, and contented themselves with calling the jailers rude names.

* * *

The brutes that lead the charge swarmed all over the beach, their blue painted skin almost created the illusion of water rushing towards the vastly outnumbered Solamnic Knights. Their hooting and war calls only added to that illusion, with no semblance of a formation, their objective was to weaken the opponents so that the Dark Knights could finish them with little effort. 

With bravery that would rival only insanity, the Solamnic Knights held formation, and waited for the brutes to smash into their lines.

Tanin, Palin, and Sturm were in formation as well, the two older brothers muttering words of encouragement to each other, and Palin stood behind, deep in the concentration that was vital to casting spells.

Sir Percival leaned over to Sturm and was forced to yell to be heard over the brutes, "You can inform your brother that he can commence his spell casting." Sturm nodded and lightly tapped Palin on the elbow, one of the brothers recently created war signals. Palin lifted his left leg slightly to show he understood, and began chanting the spell that would summon a fireball.

Unnoticed by Palin, Raistlin stood beside his nephew, proud of the power he had achieved. He turned to the oncoming brutes, frowned in displeasure, and also began chanting a fireball spell, but one which was much more potent.

The brutes were close enough that the knights could see the whites of these blue giants eyes, "FIRE!" Sir Llewelyn roared, and all those knights who could fire a bow with any accuracy, loosed upon the screaming brutes. In total, 150 arrows were fired, none missed their marks, it was simply impossible not to hit something in the rushing swarm of bodies. Unfortunately for the knights, not even half that number were felled, or even staggered, the brutes were fueled by pure blood lust, and only those killed instantly were stopped.

Brutes were mere feet away from the defensive line of the knights when both Palin and his uncle completed their spells. Two fireballs, one yellowish orange, and one of pure darkness, flew over the lines of Solamnic Knights and impacted in the ranks of the brutes. The fireball cast by Palin simply incinerated any in its radius and badly burned any outside, the spell cast by Raistlin not only incinerated the brutes, but reincarnated any killed by it as skeletal warriors that began assaulting the brutes from within.

The brutes lack of coordination which usually aided their cause through intimidation, became a weakness that a toddler could exploit. Their deeply religious culture made it easy for the Knights of Takhisis to assume superiority over them. The dark knights insignias on their breastplates led the brutes religious leaders to believe that they were the gods warriors, now, with their own rising from dead and attacking them, and in such tight nit 'formations', the brutes were deeply confused, frightened, and in need of spiritual guidance.

The Knights of Solamnia recognized the disorder, and were quick to exploit it with ruthless efficiency, making use of the confusion to even the odds.

The brutes, in complete disorder were cut down without any raising a hand in defense, almost all had been killed before Sir Percival was able to calm the young knights enough to persuade them that prisoners were just as good as dead enemies.

* * *

Justarius of the Red Robes stood in silence, the young acolyte beside him whispering in his ear. "Very well," he waved his hand and the acolyte left his side. "It seems Raistlin has just prevented the Knights of Takhisis from gaining a foothold in our western shore-line. 

"He what!" Sir Thomas exclaimed, standing so quickly that his chair skidded backwards. His hand moved unconsciously to his moustache, and he began twisting the end of the right, a nervous habit.

"Yes, Sir Thomas, we are now all in Raistlin Majere's debt. That was the second reason I called all of those assembled here." He looked towards the knights, "The dark knights are a real threat, no amount of sweeping will eliminate that fact. Tanis Half-Elven was right in warning us all that the knights have the greatest chance yet at fulfilling their Queen's ideals. They are totally devoted to Her, and are willing to sacrifice themselves to further their Queen's position." Justarius' voice rose to new heights, "You should know, for you knights are what they have based their entire way of life around."

Sir Thomas looked around, slightly embarrassed by the show of emotion, without the political twisting, it was almost as if he were at home, arguing with knights from abroad about small changes to titles, boundaries, and other trivial matters. It made him realize how stupid it all was. Unfortunately, those ways would never end as long as there was corruption in the ranks of the Solamnic's. He looked at the assembled magi, all held the same fervor in their eyes as Justarius, the same anger towards the knights, both good and evil. Black robe and white were united in a common purpose, the survival of magic. He dropped his head in shame at the antics of the knights, if ever they became united the way the magi were, they would be a terrifying force indeed.

* * *

Well folks, that's the end of the latest chapter. And what a chapter that was! Not really the most exciting, but considering this is my first fanfic, and the fact that I get overly involved with the little things in the stories that don't matter at all to the reader and just makes my writing uninteligable, I figure I did pretty good.

Comments? Ideas? I'd like to hear from you.


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